


the cyndi lauper protocol

by bstarship



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Multiverse, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Precious Peter Parker, Time Skips, Time Travel, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-26 19:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18723709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bstarship/pseuds/bstarship
Summary: ENDGAME SPOILERSIn which Peter struggles time after time,and Spider-Man takes a visit through time, after time, after time...





	the cyndi lauper protocol

**Author's Note:**

> get it? time after time? cyndi lauper? ha.
> 
> also not a fix-it, sorry!

****2023.** **

Peter was most likely making a huge, detrimental mistake. Like,  _huge_. As in, possibly-getting-himself-stuck-in-the-quantum-realm-because-he-decided-he-wanted-to-visit-Tony-in-the-past huge. There was more to it, of course. Prior to the decimation, he and Peter had been working on adjustments to the Iron Spider suit, and they were  _amazing_  adjustments that Peter decided he could no longer live without. The problem was, the blueprints had vanished, and he had no idea how to work on something so advanced without guidance. So, naturally, he decided to sneak into a top-secret Avengers facility late at night to get his hands on a quantum machine and a large handful of Pym Particles.

The sneaking around part had been easy breezy, but the act of traveling through time... not so much. Peter was smart enough to figure things out most of the time–– surely, he’d be smart enough to hit a few buttons and set the GPS band-thingy to the correct date. Surely.

“Okay, Karen,” said Peter, adjusting the straps of his backpack around the unflattering quantum suit. “Let’s rock and roll.”

“This might not be a good idea,” replied the AI. “Traveling through the quantum realm can be very dangerous, and any shortage of particles may result in being lost in the realm for good.”

Peter huffed. “Yeah, well, we’ll just have t’hope for the best.” His hand hovered over a few controls.

“And, what is it you’re hoping for, Peter?”

“I’m–– “ His hand fell back to his side. “Dunno. To get the suit I guess.”

“You must miss him.”

Peter frowned. It was much,  _much_  more than that. “A lot.”

Karen stayed silent for a moment. “You will have to set your GPS to your desired date. You have enough Pym Particles for ten trips in case you miss your time stamp. Remember, Peter, you should avoid interacting with yourself or Tony as much as possible.”

“ _Yeah_ ,  _yeah_.”

“The machine is active and ready when you are.”

“Sweet, so I just press th––  _shit!”_

****2010.** **

Peter knew it was all wrong from the moment he emerged from the realm. He felt warped and slightly unbalanced, yet his senses weren’t hindered. And, he could trust his memories. He recognized the Stark Expo before he could get a complete grasp on what he had done.

“ _Karen_ ,” spat Peter, tapping a few times at the GPS in his suit. “This isn’t the right time. What did I do wrong?”

“I’m not sure, Peter,” replied the AI. “It is possible the time tracker has malfunctioned and sent you to a separate significant time in the past. Or, you could have miscalculated. Or, you could have missed your specified time stamp.”

Peter sighed. “Great,” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone. “And _,_ w-what do you mean by significant time?”

The explosions began before Karen had a moment to respond. A familiar feeling coursed through Peter as he fell into a ready stance, eyes wide toward the sky. This was more than a memory to him. A few flashes of bright orange lights darted through the night, and shouts of panic were quick to follow. Peter glanced around, meanwhile, the quantum suit faded away, leaving him in his Iron Spider suit. He shot webbing in the direction of the building behind him and leapt away from the commotion.

Down below, a stampede of people ran from what seemed to be large Iron Man mock drones. Sparks and debris flew across the expansive exterior, and even the fountain was taking quite a beating. He swore he could almost hear Uncle Ben yell about where he parked his car. It didn't matter anyway–– the car was toast by the end of the night. Peter loosened his grip on the wall and leaned toward the action.

“Peter,” said Karen, “I would suggest not getting involved as best as you can. You are not supposed to be here.”

“B-but I  _am_  here,” he replied slowly and almost hesitantly. “Like, not  _me_ , but...”

Peter’s voice trailed off. Not because he lost his train of thought–– no. The same stream of light he knew all too well dove in from the sky, slipping easily into the thinning crowd. Once the people had cleared, Peter instantly recognized the scene. There was a kid, a drone, and then Iron Man.

“Reconnaissance mode, now,  _now!_ ” Peter yelled, and the spider drone rushed off.

“Peter, this is––“

“Not now, Karen.”

The sound of a blast snatched Peter’s attention back towards the scene. The drone that had once been standing before the kid fell to the ground. Peter’s stomach churned when he caught a glimpse of the plastic Iron Man helmet, and then the kid turned to face the big man himself.

_“Nice work, kid.”_

Peter fell back against the building. “Mister Stark,” he whispered out, watching the man take off back into the night. “Karen.”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Let’s get out of here.”

****2012.** **

Nausea overcame Peter for a moment when he slammed headfirst into a brick wall of an alleyway. The quantum suit was quick to trickle away as he threw himself over the edge of a dumpster. Only a matter of moments later, Peter was suddenly remembering what he had for breakfast.

“Are you all right, Peter?” asked Karen. “I suggest sitting down and regaining your surroundings. Traveling through the quantum realm can be dangerous.”

“I’m––“ Peter wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “’m fine.” He took a few breaths before sitting down on the concrete. “Wh-where are we?”

“New York,” said his AI.

Peter nodded. “Good.”

“Specifically, Manhattan in the year 2012.”

He rose and stumbled back against the brick. “ _Why?_ ” he asked, placing his hand on his chest to aid the panic heavy in his heartbeat.

“I’m still not sure, Peter,” she said. “You’re already down two particles. You might want to consider returning back to the present as soon as you can.”

Peter thought hard about a decision, meanwhile taking in his surroundings. “I just–– we were really passionate about that upgrade. I wanna try.” A second later, he let out a deep breath and tossed his backpack to the ground. “Gotta pee though. Time travel kinda presses on my bladder in a weird way. Any places close by that have some decent bathrooms? Preferably a place that I can get food.”

“There is a Starbucks just two blocks away.”

“You know I can’t have coffee, Karen.”

“I’m sorry about that, Peter,” she replied. “There is a deli across the street that sells sandwiches.”

“All right, now we’re talkin’.”

The nanotech disintegrated, leaving him in just his backpack and a pair of boxers. Peter managed to change into the spare jeans and hoodie he brought in a matter of seconds, but he had to admit, he felt a little lost without Karen. This was a part of New York he wasn’t quite familiar with. All he needed to do was pop in the deli and leave as soon as possible.

Peter could take a few things away from his experience at the deli. The turkey and swiss, albeit too moist, hadn’t been all that bad. The bathroom ran out of soap, which wasn’t ideal, and the floor was a bit damp for some reason. But he considered himself an optimist, and he would rate it a solid six out of ten.

The next experience, however, was a negative four.

He hadn’t been able to sense the man crossing in front of his path, resulting in a sharp smack of colliding shoulders and a handful of spilled curses on the man’s end. Plus, the unfortunate tumbling of a very full cup of hot coffee. Peter nearly rushed away, but the furrowed brows and tightly wrinkled forehead belonged to someone he knew.

“I don’t got all day to just keep buyin’ new coffees, kid,” the man said, clearly frazzled and upset over much more than a medium-sized coffee. “Jesus.”

“Mister–– “

Peter’s vision blurred as he stumbled back a few steps. He could hear his heart in his ears, and his lungs were void of any oxygen. The pain spreading in his chest was familiar–– he felt it at Tony’s funeral, and he felt it for weeks after.

“Mister Stark,” croaked Peter. His face had flushed tremendously, and he nearly forgot he wasn’t supposed to be here. He wanted to hug Tony, but this Tony didn’t know who he was.

Tony’s expression was unreadable. For all he knew, this was just another kid who saw him as Iron Man and Iron Man only. But the years would one day tell him. Peter saw him as a father, and Peter now had to pretend he didn’t know him.

“I’m–– I’m really s-sorry,” Peter sputtered. If he didn’t leave soon, he was certain he would start crying in front of this poor man.

“’s okay, kid,” said Tony, voice now gentle and somewhat understanding.

“W-what are you up to, I-Iron Man?” Peter asked his mentor. He even attempted his best smirk, but he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball, or maybe even apologize for all that he put Tony through.

Tony’s lips pursed and then frowned. “Jus’–– “ He pressed his fingers against the line between his brows. “––trying to get a brainwashing scepter away from some sassy god before he controls all of us and destroys the earth as we know it.”

“Oh,” said Peter. The Battle of New York. “Cool.” Not quite, though. Peter knew this was the root of a lot of his mentor’s PTSD.

“Yeah.” Tony stifled a laugh. “Cool. See ya kid.”

“Thank you, Mister Stark.”

Tony had already started in the other direction, but with one last wave of the hand, he replied, “no, thank  _you_.”

****2013.** **

“Karen?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Is that the Pacific Ocean?”

“Yes.”

“Ah  _shit_.”

After Peter’s brief interaction with Tony in New York, he had spent the next hour or so on a rooftop counting down from a hundred thousand. Peter assumed he would catch a glimpse of the man at some point during his excursion, but he hadn’t exactly planned on bumping into him. And, he hadn’t thought about the outcome either. He hadn’t thought about the panic that would ensue. So, he finally calmed his breathing enough to shakily send himself to the  _correct_ date.

Of course, he managed to end up in a completely different location.

“This doesn’t make sense, Karen,” he said, straightening his back to look at the fronds of distant palms swaying against the night sky. The air was slightly warm, and he could hear the gentle crashing of waves from the shoreline below. “Are we in California?”

“Malibu, to be exact. In the year 2013.”

“This just–– it doesn’t make sense,” he repeated. “I can’t be getting it wrong every time. I’m not that stupid.”

“You aren’t stupid at all, Peter.”

“Aw.” Peter smiled. “Thanks, Karen. I appreciate it.” He sighed a second later, tossing his backpack down beside him as he sat under a large tree. “This thing must be busted,” he said, tapping at the GPS, but the suit soon faded away.

For a few minutes, Peter remained silent to enjoy the sounds surrounding him–– the waves lapping against the sandy beach, and the breeze blowing through branches and the brush behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment, but Karen’s voice snapped him awake.

“There appears to be someone else here with you,” she said. “There is something making their heat signature hard to read. I suggest changing out of your suit or finding a place to hide to be safe.”

Peter nodded. “Good call, Karen. Talk to you in a bit.” He was quick to change, just to be sure no one caught him half-naked in a public park. Truth be told, that wasn’t necessarily unusual to find in New York.

Yet, Karen was right. The stranger’s presence was kind of overwhelming, and Peter swore he could hear their heavy breaths. He stood after a short internal battle on whether or not he should stay or split–– he wasn’t Spider-Man right now, he didn’t need to help. Another sound filled the air, a sound Peter had once been acquainted with. Something similar to the whining of mechanical parts. Something a lot like a moving limb of the Iron Man suit.

This could  _not_  be happening.

Slowly, Peter twisted around, hands grasping the thick bark of the tree behind him. He didn’t want a repeat of the interaction aftermath in New York, but it was hard to fight the temptation creeping in. No matter what, Peter would always want to speak to Tony Stark.

There, on a bench facing the sea, the Iron Man suit sat hunched over. Peter’s gut twisted at the sight. He knew for a fact that Tony had been at his lowest around this time. When Peter started towards the red and gold suit, time seemed to slow. Noises slipped into a vacuum, and the rock walkway turned into molasses beneath his feet. Eventually, he drew near, but the man didn’t bother glancing up. Not even when Peter took a seat right next to him.

“A-are–– are you okay?” Peter asked, tossing his hood over his head. His voice came out stronger than he thought.

That was when Tony finally reacted to the sudden company. He shuttered, nearly jumping to face Peter in an action stance. But the mask popped open a second later, and the kid was able to get a good look at what his mentor had been. A bruised and bloodied eye and cracked lip.

“It’s not nice to stare,” said Tony, tone harsh and cold. But it made Peter smile a bit.

“Sorry, sorry.” He imagined the injuries were self-obtained.

Tony huffed, sliding back into his relaxed, hunched-over state. “You don’t want me to burden you with my problems.”

Peter stared forward at the dark ocean and bit his lip. That was just it, he  _did_  want that. He had wanted Tony to open up to him for as long as he could remember. For as long as they knew each other, it seemed to be all about Peter. When was the last time someone checked on Tony besides Happy or Pepper? He needed someone to be there for him, too. Age didn’t define compassion.

“I bet you can’t sleep,” said Peter without realizing the words were coming from him.

The silence between them grew thick.

“Yeah,” said Tony. His voice fell weak–– almost inaudible. “I think–– I think about dying. I think about the people I’ve put in harm's way. Hey, wait. No, no, I’m not saying anymore. You’re just gonna go tell the presses that Iron Man can’t handle his stress.”

“No,” Peter mumbled. “No, I’m–– I can’t sleep either. I can never sleep.”

Tony hummed. “What’s your excuse?”

_One time a building collapsed on top of me. I crashed a plane and was almost killed by my date’s dad. I fought a big purple dude who wanted to destroy half of the universe. I literally died on a strange planet in your arms and came back to life five years later. I had to watch you die right in front of my eyes. And don’t get me started on Europe._

Peter shrugged and said, “lost a lot of important people in my life. I’ve just seen more things than I should’ve.”

Tony didn’t seem quite pleased with that answer, in fact, he almost looked concerned. “H-how old are you, kid?”

“Seventeen.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.” Peter rubbed his hands against his knees to hide the tremors building in his fingers. He wished he could tell Tony everything. He wished he could tell him how much he missed him. “Looking at colleges and such.”

“Ah.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Heard MIT is pretty good. But don’t take it from me, or anything, I’m just an alum.”

Peter laughed, and it felt good. It felt natural to be with Tony again despite the lack of memories on the opposing party.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“I’m–– uh, it’s–– it’s Ben.”

Tony nodded, holding out his hand. “Nice t’meet you.”

“You, too, Mister Stark.”

“Please,” said the older man, smiling, “call me Tony.”

****2015.** **

A vexing hum filled Peter’s ears before his vision came to. The realm sent him wobbling into a large room, insanely large glass windows overlooking midtown Manhattan. And Peter, well, he was standing right behind what seemed to be a bar.

“Um, Karen.”

“New York, Peter,” she said, “but in the year 2015. You should hide quickly. There are multiple heat signatures around the premises. It is daytime after all.”

Peter sprinted down a hall, sputtering out, “K-Karen, find me a room to hide in. And, Jesus, where is that humming coming from?”

“Take a left.”

So, he did. Peter stumbled into what appeared to be a laboratory of some sorts. All of the machinery and illuminated screens were unlike what he had familiarized himself with at the Avengers facility. The humming had grown louder.

“Log forty-two.”

Peter froze. A shiver crawled his spine, and quickly he searched for the best place to hide amongst the equipment. Behind a table by the door would have to do the trick.

“Peter,” said Karen, “get out of there.”

Tony waved his arms and spread out a few dozen documents and plans in the air. The humming was simply a robot arm welding metal together behind him. “I should probably just like, never touch anything ever again. Right, JAR–– well, that’s the thirtieth time I’ve forgotten.” He laughed. “I don’t know  _what_  to do. I don’t know  _how_  to do anything. I kinda don’t even want to do this anymore. I don’t–– “

Peter’s knee buckled from beneath him, sending his arm toppling down onto the metal surface of the table.

“Peter,” Karen said.

“Get me out of here, Karen,” he whispered.

****2016.** **

“Okay, I don’t think this is New York,” Peter said, climbing quickly into a tree overlooking a river. A small city skyline sat just across the water, and behind him, cars whizzed by on the road.

“Careful, Peter, there is a couple that will be passing below you in forty seconds,” said Karen.

Peter grimaced as he managed to keep his body still. He let the chatty pair pass in peace before relaxing again. “Where am I?”

“Boston,” she replied. “Cambridge, as a matter of fact. 2016.”

Peter wanted to scream. He was exhausted, and he needed the bathroom again. But instead of his screams, he heard a chorus of them from down the avenue. In front of a building adjacent to him, a crowd of people had formed. He struggled to see beyond the branches of distant trees, yet he couldn’t ignore the pretty black car pulling up to the sidewalk.

“What’s going on, Karen?”

“Tony Stark is about to give his presentation on Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing at MIT,” she said.

Peter groaned and threw his head back against the bark. A bird chirped above him. “This doesn’t make  _sense_ ,” he muttered. “Why can’t I just get to 2018? Why is this dumb thing taking me to see Tony at the wrong times?”

“I wish I could understand, too, Peter,” Karen responded. “Would you like to use enhanced reconnaissance mode to listen in on the presentation?”

“Sure. Wait–– “ Peter tugged his backpack off of his shoulders. “Why don’t I just  _go_?”

“I wouldn’t recommend that.” Karen almost sounded stern for a second. “You’ve already had too many run-ins with Mister Stark, and you still haven’t reached your designated time stamp yet.”

Peter shrugged, tapping the spider on his chest to loosen the material of his suit. “What’s one more gonna do?”

The auditorium was packed full as he entered. He would have had a better seat had he not excused himself to use the bathroom. And, speaking of bathrooms, MIT had wicked nice ones. The school was definitely in his top five now for sure.

Peter hugged himself when the lights dimmed, and he blamed it on the chill of the A.C. And when the piano echoed throughout the small theater, he didn’t quite know what to think. He didn’t know how to react when a younger-looking Tony walked across the stage, posture tall and poised like the world hadn’t yet fallen on his shoulders. He was naïve, but Peter didn’t see himself in that Tony. Peter saw himself in the Tony standing behind him in all black. That was the Tony he knew.

_To generate, disseminate, and preserve knowledge._

“As of this moment, every student has been made an equal recipient of the Inaugural September Foundation grant. As in, all of your projects have just been approved and funded. No strings, no taxes. Just–– reframe the future! Starting now.”

Peter was grinning from ear to ear, and then a silence enveloped the crowd.

“Go break some eggs,” Tony said quickly.

Everyone erupted, rising from their seats with roaring applause. And Peter–– he sat still, watching his mentor hide his disheartened frown before leaving the stage completely.

Peter’s backpack was still webbed up in the tree where he left it. The sun had started to set, and the colors reflecting off of the water were a sight he wouldn’t mind seeing every day. In a way, Peter felt as though he was a part of Tony Stark’s legacy. Peter wanted to make him proud.

“All right, Karen,” said Peter after tugging on the mask. “Let’s try this again.”

****2018.** **

A chill ran up Peter’s spine.

“Are we upstate, Karen?” he whispered, glancing around at the large windows that towered over him. It was pitch dark both outside and in aside from a few lamps.

“It appears so.”

“Did we–– did we get it right?” Peter breathed in, awaiting Karen’s response.

“We are in the year 2018,” she replied. “I believe we got it right, Peter.”

He let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tracing his cheeks as he made his way down the hall. After slipping into a random room to change out of his suit and back into normal clothes, Peter was quick to start towards Tony’s lab. He kept his backpack webbed up on the ceiling for later.

The place grew darker the deeper Peter wandered. His fingers twitched in anticipation, and his stomach ached from nerves. But it was okay. If he had gotten the timing correct, his past self was already within the facility’s walls. He just needed to distract Tony enough to slip the suit away from his supervision. Despite the smile, however, Peter’s eyes were already watering.

As he expected, the lights in Tony’s lab were bright, and the soft noises of metal clanking on metal could be heard from across the room. Peter kept his steps light as he maneuvered around machinery and large equipment. He knew this lab––this  _workshop_ ––fairly well. He also knew that Tony never slept when a project was bound to consume him.

“S-shit,” said the familiar voice. A few more metallic rattles followed.

Peter hid behind a large prototype for a moment to watch his mentor work. Sleep-deprivation had swallowed him, and Peter wasn’t sure he remembered Tony  _this_  exhausted during the last visit to the facility. His hands shakily moved through the air, dragging out an illuminated 3D model of the suit’s plans.

“Fri, what time is–– “ Tony’s eyes cast over Peter for a second, and the kid held his breath. He wasn’t sure why, but Peter was hoping Tony  _wouldn’t_  see him. But the man’s eyebrows had knotted together, and his lips tugged into a deep frown. That wasn’t the look of someone who had just seen Peter two hours ago. “Ah shit, I should probably go to bed, eh?”

Peter nearly answered, but Tony dropped his gaze, shrugged, and continued working. So, Peter continued watching.

“Okay, one more trial and then I’ll go to bed,” said Tony. His focus was now locked back on the suit. To Peter’s surprise, the suit was now a lot further along than he originally thought. That would make it a lot easier to finish on his part.

“Boss, you said that eight trials ago.”

“Yeah,  _well_ ,” snapped Tony, grip hard on the small screwdriver in his hand, “I mean it this time. I promised I would––  _why_  is he still here?”

Peter jumped back, suddenly cowering under Tony’s harsh stare as the kid took in his frustrated expression.

“Longest fuckin’–– “ Tony sighed. “Just run it, Fri. I gotta sleep or else that kid’ll keep staring at me. Pep’s forcing me to see a therapist at breakdown number eighty-five.”

“All right, boss,” said FRIDAY. The screens surrounding Tony began showing statistics, and a process bar appeared across from him. “Running trial number forty-six. Rendering reflective technology. Micro panels seem to be stable.”

Tony’s face scrunched in confusion. The Iron Spider suit remained unchanged. “Are they stable or are they working?”

The progress bar turned red. Once again, Peter jumped back as sparks emitted from the sleek suit. The loud cracks soon died out, but the silence was replaced with Tony’s fist hitting the metal table.

“Render failed, boss,” said his AI. “Trial unsuccessful.”

“Yeah, got that, Fri!” he shouted. His anger seemed to ooze out of him, hands coming up to rub at his forehead while his teethed ground and his eyes screwed tightly shut. “I–– how is this  _possible_? I invented this shit–– I  _invented it._  How can I not put it into a goddamn suit? Jesus  _Christ_ ,  _are you still there?_ ”

Peter nearly gasped when Tony looked at him for the third time. But then, something in Tony switched. His frustration melted away, and the tension in his expression faded into something a lot like confusion.

“Shit,” said Tony. “You’re still–– you’re still there. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, kid. I still haven’t figured out how to make the suit safe with the reflective panels, and I know you were so excited about it, so I–– “

“M-Mister Stark,” Peter mumbled, but Tony continued on.

“I’ve literally been just tinkering and tinkering, and without you here I can’t–– “

“Mister Stark!”

Tony fell back onto a metal stool. His features, from his mouth to his ears, were unmoving as they took in Peter’s presence. The same face he saw only moments before their shared hug.

“It’s okay,” said Peter. “It’s okay. I don’t need the upgrades right now. I just need you to sleep. We can work on it tomorrow.”

Tony nearly laughed, but the smile soon fell as the man tried not to collapse under his own weight. He glanced back up at Peter, eyes narrowed and watery. “Tomorrow,” Tony whispered. “God. Can you just–– just get outta my head.”

Peter’s shoulders slumped, and it suddenly dawned on him. This wasn’t right. Nothing about this felt right. Peter wasn’t supposed to be here, at least not to Tony.

“I’m here to...” Peter thought for a moment. What would an illusion say?

“Here to what?” snapped Tony. “To tell me I fucked up your life? To––“ The man sighed. “No. You wouldn’t even  _think_ anything close to that.

Peter shook his head. “I’m here for you.”

Tony winced, but he chuckled, too. “Here for me? To remind me of how I couldn’t save you? Great. Thanks. Just what I needed.”

“No,” said Peter. “Not at all, Mister Stark.”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

“I’m here so you can say goodbye.” Peter tried not to let his voice tremble as he spoke. This was as hard for him as it was for Tony. They both lost each other.

Everything that Tony had been thinking seemed to wane, and Peter could sense it. They left his mentor like a spirit would leave a body. After that, Tony stood and slowly made his way over. The closer he neared, the more Peter could see what the decimation truly had done to him. What Peter’s  _death_  had done to him. And when Tony’s hand reached out, Peter didn’t have the heart to move away. He didn’t want to either.

Tony’s hand was warm against Peter’s cheek, and so was his smile. The same smile crumbled once again. This time, Tony didn’t stop the tears, and Peter couldn’t either.

“Why’re you crying?” asked Tony, hinting another smirk through the wetness on his cheeks. “You’re not supposed t’cry.” His voice, hushed and weak, made Peter feel so small.

Peter nodded and smiled up at his mentor. “What? Figments can’t feel things, too?”

Tony clapped his hand on the kid’s back as his grin faltered momentarily. “Don’t–– don’t disappear until I leave, okay?” His grip tightened. “I’m–– I’m really sorry, Pete. I–– “

“No, Mis’er Stark,” Peter mumbled, shaking his head. “’s nothin’ you should be sorry for. I’m okay.”

“You’re...” Tony reached up to hold Peter’s cheek once again, but the touch was soon replaced with a tight embrace. Another hug, another goodbye.

The moment was quiet; Peter wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Sometimes silence said more than words ever could. And when Tony didn’t speak again before he left, Peter was still okay with it. This goodbye wasn’t an official goodbye for Tony, even though he wouldn’t know it until later. This goodbye was official for Peter.

After a moment, he took the suit and its plans and left.

****2023.** **

_“Render successful. Trial complete.”_

Peter took a deep breath. Five, four, three, two...

“Hello, Peter,” said Karen. “It looks like there are a few new enhancements to your suit. Would you like to give them a try?”

“Oh, hell yes.” Peter grinned and made his way out of his open window. “What should we start with Karen?”

“Some enhancements like quad damage and electric punch are best to experiment in combat,” she replied as he climbed up to the roof of his building. “Your reflective panels are an option. Shall I activate enhanced velocity mode?”

Peter hummed. “Yeah. Speedy Spider mode. Awesome.”

“Peter, there appears to be a new message in my database. It’s timestamped from five years ago. Would you like to listen to it?”

He leaned against the edge of the roof and looked down at the cars driving by. “Sure, why not?”

Karen continued, “it’s from Tony, Peter.”

Peter tucked his chin into his chest. He hadn’t expected a message. He hadn’t expected to ever hear or see Tony again. But things changed faster than he realized. “Let’s hear it.”

 _“Hey there, Pete,”_ said Tony.  _“Or, I guess... whoever might be listening to this. Could be Pep. Or Happy. Hi, Happy. But I hope it’s you, Pete. I’ve been slaving away at this suit for probably— I wanna say three weeks now. I mean, I’m_ nearly _there on your_ quad damage _thing that we talked about. Got some of Thor’s friends to help on that one. I’m working on— oh you’ll be excited about this one— I’m working on this thing called_ electric punch _. Because sometimes taser webs are just not good enough. ‘s just a bit more..._ pizazz _. After this, it’s just the reflective panels left, and then... it’s done._

 _“And I just— I just wanna say I’m sorry, Pete,”_ he continued. _“Everyone thinks I’m crazy for still workin’ on this thing even though... well, we all lost hope, but accepting it is just a bit too hard, innit? The world didn’t just lose half of its population, it lost you._ I _lost you. You were everything I wanted to be, and I am so proud of you._ God _. Yuck. I almost cried saying that._

 _“I, uh, don’t take this the wrong way but, uh, sometimes— sometimes I feel like I lost a son. I don’t know how you would take that the wrong way, so forget I said anything, I guess. I just saw a lot of me in you, but you were better, and I wanted that for you. I was excited to see you grow and succeed, and I got this really suffocating knot in my chest every time you screwed the pooch because— well, I don’t really know what I would’ve done had you gotten yourself killed. And when you did something really great, that knot was a good knot. Still suffocating, but_ good _._

_“And then... well you know. You’re dead, after all. Who would know better than you? But if you’re alive out there, maybe, you might wanna come try out this suit. I think it’s pretty cool at least. I mean, I made it myself. With your help, I guess. So, come home. The world needs Spider-Man. And I need Peter Parker.”_

Peter sniffed and smiled. “I need you, Tony.”


End file.
